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When you’re born without a trace, no one knows you’re a weapon.
Book Blurb:
The
future isn’t real.
The past
isn’t real, either.
Only the
present is, solid and full, flying at our faces, our bodies, our hearts and
souls at breakneck speed as we work to take it all in.
As we
work to protect others.
And, finally
– ourselves.
We’ve
started to break the bonds of Stateless, a system as rotten as the one it seeks
to destroy. But systems are organisms with one brutal goal: to survive,
whatever it takes.
Kina has
to do the unfathomable to save a different system, one she created out of
empathy and love for children we rescued from the only home they know.
She’ll
use her mind, her body, her spirit — and her ultimate weapons: love, and —
Me.
Fateless is the final book in USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine’s newest trilogy.
“I love
you,” I say, watching as his fingers halt, two buttons undone, a sprinkling of
chest hair showing from his open shirt.
Smoldering
eyes meet mine.
“You
were going to say it when I came back, but you never did. I told you I loved
you. Love you.” Boldness makes me confront this head on, the timing bizarrely
perfect. In Stateless culture, clarity mattered. Emotion wasn’t allowed, but being
blunt and direct was prized.
Can we
balance both?
“Do you
need me to say it?”
“Only if
you want to.”
“That’s not
an answer to my question.”
“No. I
don’t need you to. I want you to love me, though. That much I know.”
“Do you doubt it? That I love you?”
Author Bio:
Meli
Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents,
bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them. Meli
rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the
ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.
“The
first book in the False trilogy is a psychological thriller worthy of
Hitchcock, keeping you guessing until the very end.” — Apple Books Editors
“…intrigue
and dark humor on display in this thriller…”
While
the immediate—and more compelling—tension in Raine’s (A Shameless Little Bet, 2018, etc.) heart-pumping series opener
comes from Lily’s constant proximity to her would-be killer, the action takes
place against a backdrop of secret government scandals. The “screwed-up
D.C.-insider scandal,” as it is clumsily summarized early on, is pleasingly
twisty…
Fortunately,
Lily’s voice is captivating, wry, and tough enough to sell this thriller. The
novel ends with a cliffhanger that startles, if only because readers will have
become so attached to Lily.
— Kirkus
Reviews
“Fresh,
riveting, and thrumming with emotion and romantic suspense, False Memory is
absolutely unputdownable. You need this book!” – New York Times bestselling author Meghan March
“I
accidentally lost a day to this trilogy! It is unputdownable. Apparently I’m on
a dark-and-twisty binge, and this book is addictive.” – USA Today bestselling author Sarina Bowen (review for Harmless
series)
The holidays are still with us, right? You won’t want to miss this hot new holiday release from Lisabet Sarai!
Femdom
Holiday Erotica
12,000
words, 51 pages
Smashwords and
Amazon
KDP
ISBN
(Smashwords): 9780463715581
ASIN:
B082ZTHVKJ
This Christmas, Santa discovers it’s nice to be naughty.
Blurb
Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not
have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday
cash, it’s a case of ‘ho ho ho, let’s start the show’—he loves his red suit
like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy
Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his
references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something’s not
kosher about this particular Vixen. She’s not one to be denied, though. When
the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy
the demanding older woman.
Wearing the provocative costume supplied by
his employer, Matt arrives at the Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s
been cast as the emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include
managing a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to
guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty. Meanwhile,
the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially for him—one made of
silicon and leather straps, which requires plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It’s
going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.
Muffled in the overcoat I’d borrowed from
my roommate Brian, I faced the hardwood and brass double doors to the
Danforth’s fortieth floor apartment. The doorbell was easy to locate; I just
wasn’t sure I had the guts to ring it.
The Santa costume that my employer had
provided was more appropriate for a go-go boy than Father Christmas. The droopy
conical hat was traditional, with its fuzzy white trim and pom-pom, and the
knee-high black patent leather boots, too, but St. Nicolas wouldn’t have been
caught dead in these shiny red spandex hot pants. They clung to my bum like a
second skin. It was a good thing the weather was warm for December, or I would
have frozen my balls off. The scarlet shirt, fashioned of some sort of stretchy
velvet, had long sleeves with white fur cuffs. However, the front made a
plunging vee that bared most of my chest.
I was grateful for the soft, snowy-white
fake beard. It hid my blushes. I felt ridiculous and incredibly exposed. Like
most authors, I tended to live in my head, my vivid imagination compensating
for my mundane real-world existence. In contrast, this costume emphasized the
physical. My face was hidden; my mind wasn’t important. I had no illusions
about the fact that Mrs. Danforth had hired me primarily for my body.
I could still back out. Turn around, step
back into the chrome and steel elevator and whoosh down to the ground floor.
Spend Christmas Eve eating take-out and working on my novel.
Seriously, though, could I afford to throw
away two thousand bucks? Meanwhile, the experience, however weird, might in the
future serve as grist to the writer’s mill.
Before I could talk myself out it, I gave
the button a firm press.
Almost immediately, Mrs. Danforth opened
the door. “Good evening, Matt. You’re right on time. I do appreciate
punctuality.”
My eyes grew wide and my cock started to
harden as I took her in. She’d been attractive in her form-fitting suit and
silky blouse, but now she was stunning.
Her sleeveless, evergreen-colored cocktail dress was fashioned from some
light, shimmery fabric that clung to her voluptuous breasts and hips. The short
skirt showed off her smooth thighs and muscled calves, their shapeliness
enhanced by her sparkling red stilettos. Her pale hair gleamed in the recessed
lights of the entry way. Artfully-applied make up accentuated her patrician
features. Her plump, crimson lips were moist and inviting.
“Toss your coat onto the chair,” she
ordered. “Let’s see the costume.”
Like an automaton, I shrugged off the heavy
wool garment.
She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, you look spectacular! Sexy and naughty, just the way I imagined.”
AboutLisabet
Lisabet
Sarai became
addicted to
words at
an early
age. She
began reading
when she
was four.
She wrote
her first
story at
five years
old and
her first
poem at
seven. Since
then, she
has written
plays, tutorials,
scholarly articles,
marketing brochures,
software specifications,
self-help books,
press releases,
a five-hundred
page dissertation,
and lots
of erotica
and erotic
romance – over one
hundred titles,
and counting,
in nearly
every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi,
ménage, BDSM,
GLBT, and
more. Regardless
of the
genre, every
one of
her stories
illustrates her
motto: Imagination
is the
ultimate aphrodisiac.
Do you love reverse harem romances? Love Christmas books? Then check out Moonstone!
Moonstone is a
standalone contemporary reverse harem romance, which is part of the Jewels Café
series—all of which can be read as standalones.
Blurb:
Christmas gifts aren’t the
only surprises Ginny is going to get this year.
Moonstone Guinevere ‘Ginny’ Miles is in Silver Springs
visiting her parents for the holidays. They moved to the town five years ago,
and adore their new life here. Used to the hustle and bustle of London,
England, Ginny isn’t convinced at first—what’s so great about a small town in
Upstate New York, anyway? Despite her own opinions, it’s clear to Ginny the
move has done her parents the world of good—they look years younger. There’s
clearly something magical about this town.
Following some exploration of her own, Ginny discovers
Silver Springs has its charms—Jewels Cafe is amazing, for starters, as is its pumpkin
spice latte. Ginny’s drunk a lot of lattes in her thirty-three years, but
nothing quite like this.
Her taste buds are still tingling from the tasty treat
when she comes across a broken-down truck on the way back to her parents’
place. And when she spots the three gorgeous guys with the vehicle, it’s not
just her taste buds that are tingling.
Is Ginny’s vacation in Silver Springs about to get a
whole lot more interesting?
Moonstone Guinevere Miles—known as Ginny to people who
didn’t want to incur her fierce and everlasting wrath—heaved her suitcase off
the luggage reclaim belt with an “Oof!” and placed it on the floor, a sigh of
relief escaping her. At least the thing had wheels—she didn’t really have the
energy for carrying a heavy suitcase all the way through Customs and out to
Arrivals. The long, tiring flight had seen to that. No matter how much she
tried, no matter how exhausted she was, she simply could not fall asleep
on a plane. Ever. Eye mask, ear plugs, meditation, bloody whale music—nothing
helped. She’d long since resigned herself to staying awake while snores from
other passengers emanated around the cabin. At least it had only been about
seven and a half hours since taking off from Heathrow—she couldn’t imagine what
state she’d be in if she ever flew any longer than that—to Australia, New
Zealand or somewhere.
Doubtful that would ever happen, though. It had
taken long enough for her to get her backside out to the east coast of America,
where her parents had been running a retreat since retiring five years ago. But
then, things were different now, weren’t they? Which was why she was even here
in the first place—it wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.
Thinking of her parents brought an inevitable smile to
her face, and inserted a little more spring in her step. Despite the energy and
mood suck that had been the flight, she was excited to be here. She was eager
to see her parents, and to find out exactly what they’d built up over the last
five years. She’d seen photos and videos, but it wasn’t the same as actually being
there.
When they’d first announced they were using their
retirement nest egg to open a retreat in Upstate New York, she’d been floored.
Who the hell retires, only to take on a massive project like that? Surely the
whole point of retiring is to wind down, enjoy some free time, relax? But no,
her mum and dad—who, to be fair, had never been what one would call
conventional—had set their hearts on it. They’d had a huge purge of their
belongings, sold their cars and house, and jetted off across the pond, leaving
Ginny shocked and not a little bereft. She’d been so used to having them close
by and had quickly realized just how much she’d taken that for granted.
At the same time, her own career had taken off and
she’d become so busy that her parents’ sudden distance hadn’t made the blindest
bit of difference. She barely saw the inside of her own flat, never mind her
friends and family. This was the first Christmas she’d had off work since then,
too, and she was looking forward to spending it with her parents more than she
could put into words. They’d been big on the festive period ever since she was
a baby, and as such, Ginny’s brain was stuffed full of warm, fuzzy memories of
Christmases past. They’d been useful to get her through the last five crappy
ones, too, where a microwaved ready meal was the best she could hope for, if
she hadn’t managed to wangle a free meal from the place she’d been working at
at the time.
Her smile widened, and she walked faster still—God,
just how big was this bloody airport?—desperate to see her mum and dad and
start the Christmas holiday with a bang. Anticipation rushed through her.
They’d have turkey and roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, mounds of vegetables,
desserts laden with enough calories to last them until Valentine’s Day,
Christmas carols, amazing decorations, a beautiful tree, fairy lights…
And Santa Claus. Two of them, in fact, jumping up and
down enthusiastically and waving wildly at her, with not a rotund belly in
sight.
Ginny was so excited, she couldn’t even be bothered
with the embarrassment she might have felt at being greeted in a public place
by her parents dressed up in Santa outfits. Plus, nobody knew her here anyway,
so who cared?
She scurried around the barrier, almost flipping her
case in her haste to turn a corner, then covered the remaining distance between
them in seconds flat and released the handle of her suitcase. A series of
squeals and exclamations went up—from all three of them—and then everything
went dark as Ginny was enveloped in a warm, fluffy embrace, her face crushed up
against what she suspected was the white fur trim on her mother’s jacket, and
kisses rained down on her. It was all she could do to suck in oxygen as she was
squeezed and squeezed them right back. She was assailed by the scents of clean
clothes, shampoo, perfume, and cologne—all perfectly lovely smells by
themselves, but somewhat overwhelming all at once. Unintelligible murmurings
reached her ears, but she didn’t bother to reply since she had no idea what was
being said. And she didn’t need words, anyway. All she needed at that moment in
time was to soak up the enormous outpouring of love she was experiencing.
She was so bloody happy, she thought she might pop.
Eventually, her parents loosened their hold enough so
she could step back and actually look at them. She took in her father’s
handsome face, his steel-gray hair—or what she could see beneath the hat, at
least—his wide grin, and her mother’s long, light gray, waist-length plaits,
the glint in her eyes and the glow of her skin.
“Guys, you look fantastic! If this is what
retirement does for you, I think I might sign up now.”
Her mother, Deborah, gave a nonchalant shrug—which,
given her attire, was way more amusing than it should have been. “What can I
say, sweetheart? I feel fantastic. I’ve got so much more energy than I
ever had in London, even when I was much younger.” She shrugged again. “It’s
the retreat, I’m sure of it—the moment your father and I first set foot there
all those years ago, I felt there was something magical about it. Silver
Springs is the most wonderful little town, and we’re lucky enough to live and
work in the most spectacular part of it—though it hardly feels like work.”
Ginny gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then turned
to her father, Charlie. “And you, Dad? You look twenty years younger, but how
do you feel?”
His face took on a beatific expression. “The same as
your mother, kiddo. Exactly the same. If I’d known just how wonderful it would
be, I’d have thrown in the towel and moved out here years ago. Decades, even.”
He grabbed the handle of Ginny’s case in one hand, then looped the other around
her neck and pulled her in to drop a kiss on her chin-length blonde hair, which
he then ruffled. “I’m so thrilled you’re here, Moony. You’re going to love it
in Silver Springs. Just love it! Come on, let’s get going. We’ve got a long
drive ahead of us, and the weather’s on the turn.”
Ginny bit back comments on both his use of her
childhood nickname, and his messing up of her hair. She didn’t want to dampen
the almost euphoric mood that seemed to float between the three of them—a
combination of being pleased to see each other, and her parents’ obvious
appreciation of their new home. Though five years was hardly new anymore, was
it? She really should have visited before now, but the circumstances had been
impossible. Now they weren’t, and she was here, in the bosom of her family, at
Christmas time, and it was going to be magical.
And, at some point, she’d enlighten her parents about
the fact she had nothing in particular to rush home for, either. But that could
wait. No need to burst the happy, everything-is-perfect bubble just yet. She’d
let them all enjoy their first Christmas together in years before thinking
about that.
They made their way out of the airport building. The
cold air slapped Ginny in the face, momentarily taking her breath. Her slight
gasp drew her mother’s keen eye. “I hope you listened to me, sweetheart, and
brought warm clothes with you. It’s even colder up in Silver Springs, you
know.”
“The car’s not far,” her dad piped up. “I’ll get the
heating on as soon as we’re inside, and we’ll soon have you snug as a bug in a
rug.” He tipped her a wink, and warmth flooded her veins. She hadn’t realized
until now just how much she’d missed her wacky yet lovable parents. They might
be unconventional, but they’d given her a wonderful childhood. When she’d reached
adulthood, they’d remained incredibly close, with them managing to achieve the
perfect balance of loving and supportive without being controlling. They’d let
her forge her own path, make her own mistakes, and had been there to help pick
up the pieces without uttering so much as a “I told you so.”
They’d definitely earned this idyllic new life they’d
carved out for themselves, and she couldn’t wait to experience it for herself,
if only for a little while. Though she wasn’t sure how much fun there was to be
had in the back end of beyond. It was hardly going to be lively. Perhaps it was
a good thing she was only here for an extended holiday.
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